


Honesty

by princetteofcats



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anybody of any Gender can be a Jedi, Coming Out, Fluff, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, but it's important to me, really self-indulgent, this is just a little feel-good thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princetteofcats/pseuds/princetteofcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A true Jedi loves and respects all beings." - Mark Hamill</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honesty

**Author's Note:**

> I guess my first fic contribution to this fandom is gonna be oc-centric, lmao. 
> 
> Well, uh. I recently started up a role play with a friend of mine that involves original characters set in the Star Wars universe, pre-prequels, during the golden age of the Jedi and all that. One of my characters is a Jedi who is a trans man. After some talk with my partner, I began to think about how he would have first "come out." And then... well, this happened.
> 
> This was really theraputic and pleasant for me to write, and I'm pretty happy with the result. I figured there's no harm in sharing it here. Maybe someone else will like it, too!
> 
> I'd like to note! Tyle is my OC. Oshin is the elder brother of my partner's OC.

He had heard about the youngling and her potential far before he had ever met her. Her teachers had nothing but praise to share, constantly mentioning her focus, her devotion, her rapidly developing skill. There was a buzz once she had completed the initiate trials, mostly over who would take on the near-prodigy as their padawan. Nobody was surprised when Oshin volunteered; in fact, everyone seemed to find it rather fitting. There was a lot of smiling and well-wishing and sagely, approving nods.

And his padawan proved to be everything expected of her, perhaps more. She was diligent and hardworking, and almost eerily reserved. She did not speak much, and when she did, her voice was low, and nearly always a whisper. She followed behind him without much question, and while she seemed ever-aware, almost hyper-vigilant, of her surroundings, Oshin couldn’t help but feel that she was constantly vexed by something.

Any question he posed about this, however, was deflected, albeit very politely. This was almost more infuriating than a more brash or rude reaction. Oshin had always been a relatively social soul, friendly and likeable, and he had met his almost exact opposite in this young girl that barely reached his waistline. Where he liked to joke, talk, and play, she prefered, instead, to observe from afar, as if she were studying life, rather than living it. It made travel an odd ordeal, as she seemed much more intent upon staring either out at the stars or down at a holopad, leaving Oshin stuck doing the same, rather than the friendly chatter he was normally so fond of.

He and his padawan had been partnered for nearly three months, and he still knew next to nothing about her. Hell, that hadn’t even had a decent conversation. That wasn’t to say that he disliked her company, nor that he felt any ill will towards her; only that he found himself feeling strange when around her. Lonely, almost. It was an odd emotion to feel when in the company of someone else, and it was all the more disconcerting when he realized he had only felt this feeling once before, before he had joined the order, when he had constantly been in the company of his brother.

While he very much took to heart the Jedi ideals of fraternal love and platonic devotion, he was not entirely fond of this melancholy version of it. He could tell that his padawan sensed something amiss, though she never pressed him about it. He found it somewhat comforting that, even if he was at a loss, he was not the only one. He was considering this feeling, trying to decide if it was mean-spirited or not, his eyes trained on a holopad, mimicking all the tells of reading even though he didn’t retain anything on the screen.

“Master Bagratuni?”

He glanced over at his padawan, who sat beside him with her own holopad. She was looking at him with a troubled, expectant gaze that made his brow furrow. He tilted his head and placed his pad on his lap before offering a warm smile.

“Yes, Kwatchin?” He replied, tone friendly. She had asked early on that he not use her first name, and while he found their last-name basis far too formal, he still made the effort.

“I… have something I would like to discuss with you, Master,” she hedged, slowly lowering her own holopad and placing her hands neatly in her lap. Oshin quirked his brows, surprised, but gave a quick nod, turning himself so that he could better face the adolescent.

“Yes, of course. You can always come to me with any concern.” He wondered if he sounded too eager. His padawan eyed him warily, and he could feel a distinct sense of distress radiating from her. It concerned him deeply, and his brow furrowed again.

“What is bothering you?”

Every other time he had asked this, Oshin had been met with polite dismissal or some other reflective defense. He halfway expected this instance to be the same, and he unconsciously braced for it as he watched his padawan look away, her hands curling uncomfortably in her lap. He had resigned himself to the inevitable disappointment, the sting of having come so close to some sort of breakthrough only to have it dart out of reach--

“I am troubled, master. Deeply troubled. I… I fear what worries me might consume me.”

Oshin paused, caught off guard at such flagrant honesty that left him more concerned in its wake than he had been before. His face softened considerably, and he leaned forward, though his padawan still looked away, her head cast downwards, as if she were ashamed. He could feel the turmoil that swelled in her chest, and it was painful. He kept his voice soft.

“My young padawan, holding on to this negativity is far worse than anything that could trouble you so. You know that it is not the way, to ruminate on th--”

“Yes, master, yes, I know--!” Her voice, usually so small, was so loud and full of emotion that it almost startled the Jedi. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but she continued, still refusing to face him, her hands balled tight in her lap, “I know that it is wrong, that the fear will lead me astray! I know this! But I… I still find myself afraid! I can’t stop it, no matter what I do--!”

She was shaking visibly, now. Oshin reached out and placed a large, warm hand on her small shoulder. She did not react to the touch, and the shaking continued. He tilted his head again before he spoke.

“Some things are not to be faced alone, young one,” He paused, thoughtful, then continued, his voice gentle and knowing, “You need not bear such a heavy burden, whatever it is, on your own. I stand ready to help, if only you would let me, Kwatchin.”

“... Tyle.”

The Jedi was obviously confused. The padawan, still shaking, finally turned to face him, and he saw the tears she was fighting so hard to blink back. The two exchanged a long, wordless look. Oshin gently squeezed her shoulder and leaned in again, looking for clarification.

“What...?”

“My… my name. It’s… I would like to be called Tyle.”

He furrowed his brow. “But… I thought your first name was-”

“It is. Was. I mean… I…,” she struggled, her knuckles stark white against the dull tan of her robe.

“Tyle is not traditionally a name given to young women,” Oshin remarked, more out of confusion than ill-will. His padawan flushed, and tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She was shaking again, and he quickly tried to backpedal, moving his hand away and holding it palm-up, as if in apology, quickly adding, “No, no, no, it’s a lovely name, a nice choice, perfect for-”

“I do not want a woman’s name! I am not a woman!”

Both were quiet and still. Big, fat tears rolled down his padawan’s cheeks, and Oshin watched them fall. He blinked once, very slowly, and began to piece instances and memories together, bit by bit. The short-cropped hair, the too-large clothing, the despair that his apprentice had fallen into about a month ago, after that hushed conversation with an older, female Jedi--

“Kwatchin… T-Tyle,” he stuttered on the new name, looking down at the crying padawan with a brotherly concern, “Is… is this what has been troubling you?”

No words, just a nod. More tears. He offered a warm smile, and reached over to brush at his padawan’s wet cheeks.

“My young friend, I can’t at all say that I understand how something like this might feel. I am at a loss; why does this make you afraid?”

“I… I worry it might make me unfit, m-might lead me into d-darkness, that I am… am not good eno-”

“Tyle,” Oshin’s voice was sterner, now, and his gaze hardened. He clasped both hands onto his padawan’s shoulders, “The first responsibility of a Jedi is honesty. You know this.”

“Y-Yes, master--”

“And a Jedi is honest to his master, the council, and…?” Oshin prodded, nodding slightly.

“H… himself….”

“Exactly.” Oshin smiled again, warm and gentle. He squeezed Tyle’s shoulders, then continued.

“This is a part of you. It is only natural that someone like you, a promising Jedi-in-progress, would seek to express that truth. It is certainly nothing to fear.”

Oshin moved his hands away from Tyle’s shoulders, and slowly, the young padawan raised his hands, wiping at the few remaining tears with his palms. When he drew them away, he looked upwards with wet, red eyes, as well as the first genuine smile that Oshin had ever seen him give. It was small, and showed no tooth, but it moved the Jedi into a wide grin of his own. He reached over and ruffled the Padawan’s hair playfully, and the younger laughed at this, ruddy-cheeked and relieved. He could feel the sense of peace that washed over the younger.

“Thank you, Master Bagratuni--”

“Well, now. If I’m to call you by your first name, then I find it only fair that you call me by mine, young one.”

Tyle blinked in surprise, his shoulders stiffening and his gaze averting to the side once more. The elder Jedi wondered, briefly, if he had sullied the moment by being too forward, and the prospect threatened to leave him feeling lonely once more. But, then, in a soft, familiar tone, came the words:

“... Thank you, Master Oshin.”

A moment of silence passed, warm and peaceful, quite unlike any other they had shared before. A pleasant change. It filled him with hope.

“You’re quite welcome, Tyle.”


End file.
